Izzy's New Life
by crystalbrown
Summary: What was like for Izzy after Clive married Muriel? How does she adjust to having a "new mother?"
1. Chapter 1

_This is a piece about the Pettibone family, from Izzy's point of view, after Clive marries Muriel. Picks up at the end of Season six. I don't own these characters!_

By the time we drove up to the Pettibone home, some of the excitement from the little wedding ceremony was starting to wear away. Instead, I felt nervous.

Father spoke as he pulled the horses to a halt. "Izzy, Muriel and I are going past her place to get her some things. Will you go in and get dinner started?"

I jumped out of the buggy—I wouldn't mind a little time alone, to think. After adding more wood to the stove, I cut some parsnips, carrots, and cabbage, then added some salt pork to the mixture. It would make a fairly good stew. I mixed up some cornbread and put that in the oven, then sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

I knew things were going to change, but wasn't sure how much. I assumed Miss Stacey—Muriel—Mrs. Pettibone—whatever I was to call her—would take over in the kitchen, so I wouldn't have to cook, at least not every meal.

When I'd told Cecily that Miss Stacey was coming, she thought I was lucky because she's so kind to everyone. I suppose she is, but time will tell. Living with someone is very different from seeing them in town. I don't even know if Father and Miss Stacy have talked about the store yet, if she's keeping it.

I jumped when the door opened. Had I really been sitting there for that long?

"I'll take your bags up to my—our—room, Muriel." I think she blushed a bit when Father said that.

That left us in the kitchen. "May I assist you with anything, Izzy?"

"No thank you, I just have to set the table."

"Please, let me help." I acquiesced with a shrug and handed her a stack of plates. "Do you eat supper in the dining room or kitchen?"

"Kitchen, most days. If it's just family." I felt odd saying that. Imagine having to ask that—she really didn't know much about us. She must feel as uncomfortable as I, although she didn't show it. "Um… what should I call you? If you don't mind my asking."

"Oh, well, whatever you like. I suppose you can't call me Mrs. Pettibone. Muriel, then."

"I don't think Father will condone that."

"Don't think Father will condone what?"

"Oh, Clive, we were just discussing what Izzy should call me."

"Mother, of course."

I avoided Miss—Muriel's gaze, sure she was looking for my reaction. She'd get none from me.

Our dinner was no quieter than usual; I think Muriel was trying to keep a light conversation going, her voice pleasant. At least Father and Arthur didn't get into any of their quarrels; that wouldn't have done on Muriel's first night.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up earlier than usual next morning and headed downstairs to get a jump-start on breakfast. I had just put on a pot of oatmeal and was heating water for coffee when Muriel came downstairs. "Oh, Izzy, good morning. I was thinking to start breakfast, but here you've already begun."

"I always cook breakfast." It came out a little sharper than I meant it.

"Well, that's fine, and if you wish to continue…"

"I do."

"I want to help you, Izzy—well, we'll discuss this later. Will you go over to… my old house with me after breakfast and help me pack?"

"Do you need me? I was going to go to the King's."

"I'd enjoy your company." Muriel raised an eyebrow, question held.

I would have enjoyed her company, too, before. But, I reasoned with myself, the person hadn't changed—just the circumstances. I could still enjoy her company.

I was taking sweaters and shirtwaists out of the bureau and putting them into Muriel's trunk. Muriel was taking down dresses from the cupboard.

"Izzy, what's your full name?"

I looked up, surprised for a minute—until I realized I had no reason to be. "Isolde Jessica Pettibone. What's yours?"

"Muriel Fuller St—Pettibone." She smiled. "This will take some getting used to."

"For me, too."

"For all of us. But give it time."

We were quiet for a while until Muriel brought up another subject. "I said I wanted to help around the house, and I mean it. What would you like me to do?"

I busied myself so I wouldn't have to look at her. "I suppose you're in charge now."

"It isn't fair for me to take over after you've been so capable. Would you like to continue with breakfast?"

I nodded.

"What would you like me to do? I'll do the laundry, of course, unless you're partial to that… and cook dinner, perhaps?"

I didn't want to do it all, I'd enjoy some time away, but… I didn't know what to say. "Yes, ma'am, that sounds fine."

"You don't have to agree just because I suggested it."

"It's fine." Muriel going to be easy to live with if she was this agreeable.

"Izzy, I do want to be your friend. I know it's not easy to have another woman coming to live with you—and rather suddenly, at that—but I want you to know you can come to me if there's anything you want to talk about."

"All right." It wouldn't be the first time I'd done so.

Muriel smiled. "So, what's that Felix King been up to these days, hmm?"

While I wasn't looking forward to Father being gone, I was looking forward to having the house to myself—almost. But Muriel was quiet, and sometimes, I'd completely forget she was part of our family, and look up to see her coming into the room, or go into the study to find her reading by the fire. It wasn't a shock, but a small reminder. I wasn't quite sure how I could _forget_ Father was married, but not much had changed—except that I had more free time.

"What are your plans for the evening, Izzy?" Muriel and I were eating dinner and had been carrying on a pleasant conversation, mostly about school.

"I'm going over to the King Farm."

"Have you any homework?"

"I'll do it over there." I stuffed the last few bites in my mouth (in a ladylike way, of course), grabbed my school satchel, coat, and hat, and headed out the door.

It was dark already, but it didn't take long to get to the farm. _I suppose Muriel had to ask that question about homework, to seem "motherly."_

"How's the new mother?" Felix asked when I walked in.

"Ha ha, very funny, Felix."

"What?" Felix put on his most innocent face. "It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"Everything's fine. She's nice. Want to study?"

"Oh, yes, I've been dying to study. C'mon, Cessily's in the kitchen. And she's probably actually studying."

"Can we go for a walk instead?"

"It's dark, Izzy."

"That never stopped us when we were kids…er, before." I wasn't always sure whether I considered myself a child or not.

We stepped outside, and even though I'd only been inside for a minute, the frigid air stung the inside of my nose. "Do you think you're an adult, Felix?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Well, I'm still in school. So I don't know. When did you become an adult?"

"I don't know when. I just know I am."

"My father doesn't treat me like an adult."

"Does Mrs. Pettibone?"

"Yes. I guess. Maybe I just don't know what it feels like. I'm sure when someone treats me like an adult, I'll know."

It was late by the time I got home. Past nine. Closer to ten, really. I shut the door quietly, wiping my slushy shoes on the rug.

"Izzy, is that you?" Muriel came hurrying in. "Izzy, thank goodness. I've been worried."

"Worried?"

"It's late—half after nine." She paused to consider me. "Do you normally stay out this late?"

"We just lost track of time. I'm going up to bed now."

I expected her to stop me, to ask me what we'd been doing, or to scold because I'd been out late. But she didn't.

I lit the lamp in my room—I had homework to finish. I hadn't done much at the King's house. _Even Mrs. King acts more like a mother than Muriel. _ When Felix and I had come into the kitchen, her "where have you been?" had sounded more urgent than Muriel's. And, she had said, "Well, don't stay out so late next time," with a disapproving shake of her head. _What do you care? You wanted to be treated like an adult. And Muriel did._

"Maybe I don't mind a mother, sometimes." I hadn't felt upbraided by Mrs. King—just cared-for.


	3. Chapter 3

By the next morning I was no longer feeling so affective. If Muriel was going to be so docile, I could very well do whatever I pleased.

"I've been thinking, Izzy, would you like to learn to drive my motorcar?"

"Drive?" I felt my smile would take over my face. "Would you teach me?"

"Yes, we can go out today, if you like."

"Yes, please. I'll do the dishes and then we can go out."

"Oh, leave the dishes. We'll do them when we get back." I think Muriel was as excited as I.

Driving wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be; I had to remember to retard the spark, and wasn't fond of starting it, but turning the wheel and pushing the pedals was fun.

We drove out of town a ways so I could feel more comfortable. "Izzy, slow down!" Muriel tied her scarf tighter around her hat. "Here, let me take over."

"I can do it. I'll slow down, I'm sorry."

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I heard a small strangled sound. She was laughing—or rather, trying to stifle her laugh.

"I don't mind—feel free to laugh at me."

"I'm sorry, Izzy. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It is enjoyable, isn't it. It's just, the way you put it. You do want me around, don't you?"

Muriel said it so wistfully. How did things get serious so quickly?"

"We told you we did, Arthur and I. And Father."

"He'll be home soon."

"I'm not using to having him gone. After…" I didn't know if Muriel wanted to hear about our dead mother—she had been upset by the picture. "I've seen Father every day of my life."

Muriel put her hand on my arm. "He'll be home before you know it."

Another four days was _not_ "before you know it."

I couldn't wait to see Felix to tell him. He would be so jealous that I could drive a motorcar and he couldn't.

And, I didn't have to wait long; he stopped by on his bike later that afternoon.

"Hey, Iz! Want to take a ride?"

I stepped onto the porch. "On a bike? Bicycles are so outdated. Why don't we take Muriel's motorcar out instead? I can drive it."

Felix snorted. "You can not. You can barely ride a bike."

"I can too, Felix King! And you know I can bike just as well as you."

"Show me, then."

I had only been kidding about actually driving the car.

"Felix…"

"Yeah, I knew I couldn't believe you."

"Of course you can believe me, Felix King." He knew how to get my temper up. "I'll show you."

I hiked up my skirts and went around the side of the house.

"Really?" Felix's grin was huge. "All right! But where's Mrs. Pettibone? Won't she mind?"

"She's at the store, I think. I haven't seen her since she taught me to drive this morning."

"This morning? Are you sure it's safe, then?" Felix hesitated on the running board.

"Of course, silly. Now retard the spark so I can start this." I was nervous to drive in town, but in a few yards we'd be out on the free road. I did feel a little uneasy about taking out the motorcar—what _would _Muriel say? But she needn't know, as we were going in the opposite direction of the store. Besides, she didn't get upset.

I focused on the road, hardly noticing Felix beside me. At least this road was flat and I didn't need to shift gears frequently.

"Uh, Izzy? I think you'd better stop. Izzy, stop." His pitch was rising, so I threw on the brake.

"What? See, I told you I could—" There was—what?—Muriel coming up the road. I wasn't sure where to look. I wanted to keep talking to Felix, pretend I hadn't seen her. She was still far enough away that I couldn't make out the expression on her face, but it was her all right.

"Get out, Izzy." Muriel's voice was even.

I scrambled down, still not looking at her, and moved to the back. Muriel started up the car and we drove back to town. Felix kept looking at me nervously, but I was just praying he wouldn't say anything to make the situation worse.

"Felix, why don't we drop you off at your house?"

"Yes, Mrs. Pettibone, that would be fine. Thank you."

By the time we got home, I'd twisted my glove fingers into little knots. Muriel parked the car and got out, facing me.

"I'm sorry, Muriel."

"Go inside."

"Please, can I explain?"

"Izzy, go inside."

She didn't change what she said, it was said just as smoothly and quietly the first time, but the change in tone, the serious edge, made me go. Quickly. Not looking at her.

I went to my room and sat on the edge of my bed. She was upset.


	4. Chapter 4

After a few minutes I laid down. What should I say to Muriel? It took me a long while to work out how to explain, and when I was just about ready to go down to talk to her, she called me. "Izzy? Time for tea."

I sat down at the kitchen table, tea laid out, but Muriel wasn't there. Were we really going to talk over tea? This was quite different from Father's lectures; instead of standing at attention in his study, we'd be sharing a cuppa?

I sat, pouring the tea.

When Muriel came in I looked at her face, but it told me nothing. At least she waited until she was seated to begin. "Izzy." She waited until I looked at her. "Whatever possessed you to take out my motorcar?"

"Felix didn't believe that I could drive it."

"I did not teach you to drive so you could take the care out without my permission. And with only having learned to drive this morning, the idea is preposterous."

How could she call it ridiculous? I shot back saucily, "apparently not, because I did it."

I thought Muriel would get upset with my impertinence, but she remained calm.

"Did you think it a good idea?"

I couldn't lie to her. I stirred some sugar into my tea, which none of us had touched yet, trying to delay my answer. "I was a little worried about what you would think. But I didn't think you'd know—I thought you were at the store!"

"And is that a good reason to do it—because I wouldn't find out?"

I sighed. "No."

"Tell me, how would your father handle this situation?"

As deeply as I was looking into my cup, I was sure Muriel would ask me to read my tea leaves. But I had to answer. "He wouldn't be very happy about it."

"And neither am I."

I bit the inside of my lip to keep from crying; Muriel's tone was dead serious, and it didn't make me feel good—the fact she wasn't happy. I'd already been worrying about that for the past hour.

"That was my property you took without asking, Izzy."

"I'm sorry, Muriel. I know it was a stupid thing to do. I was stupid."

"You may not always make the best decisions, but you're a very intelligent young lady, Izzy Pettibone."

She hadn't even punished me and was complimenting me already. I didn't know what to say to that. "Are we actually having anything for tea?"

"Oh, I completely forgot that cauliflower cheese in the oven."

"I'll get it." I jumped up, eager to recompense my earlier misdeed in whatever small way I could and brought it to the table.

The cauliflower cheese was extra-cheesy, just the way I liked it, but I couldn't focus on my tea. "What's my punishment to be?"

Muriel raised her eyebrow. "You're nearly sixteen, Izzy. I don't intend to punish you."

"You asked what father would do."

"And he would punish you? I'm afraid I'm not very good with punishments…"

"But you were a schoolteacher!"

Muriel's answer was thoughtful. "I think, most often, the lessons we learn are punishment enough. Tell me, wasn't your heart racing when you saw me on the road?"

"I felt like I couldn't breathe."

"Why?"

Was she going to make me say it? "I—I didn't know what you would say, if you'd be upset. I didn't want you to scold. But I have learned my lesson, honest."

"I believe you have. A friend of mine once told me that tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it." She took my hand. "So we'll forget what happened yesterday and move on, yes?"

I smiled. "I think we're going to get along well, Muriel. As long as I don't try to steal your motorcar again, that is."

Muriel laughed and stood. "Come here." She gave me a hug.

If this was what having a mother was like, I wouldn't mind at all.


End file.
